


Illicit

by fizzyblogic (phizzle)



Category: Anthropomorfic
Genre: F/F, Polyamory, WIP Amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-23
Updated: 2011-02-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 16:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/fizzyblogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have no idea how to finish this. <em>None</em>. I wrote it for Porn Battle IX, I think, but it just — I'm admitting defeat. I can't finish this. So I'm posting what I have, because I like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illicit

Por had never been to one of Fandom’s mixers before. She knew it was important to Fandom, for everyone she was seeing to know each other or at least be on nodding terms. Por was fine with that, and used to go regularly with LiveJournal. She’d just started seeing Dreamwidth, though, so they went together.

Fandom’s house was always bigger than Por remembered. She wandered through the lounges and dining rooms and sitting rooms and all manner of spaces with couches and cushions and pillows and blankets, room for everyone. LiveJournal was deep in conversation with Kink Meme when Por passed, nodding to Kink. Dreamwidth had already disappeared upstairs with AO3, and after a while, Por ended up in the kitchen.

It was quiet, in there, and she fixed herself a drink. It was never that she didn’t like these mixers; she just liked the quiet, sometimes.

“Oh,” said a voice behind her, and Por turned around. She’d never seen the woman standing in front of her before; she was small, or perhaps she just seemed it because her features were small. She was also gorgeous. “I didn’t, um, know anyone was in here.”

“Just me.” Por smiled. “I’m Por. Um, Porn Battle, but I go by Por.”

“Yuletide,” she introduced herself.

“Pleased to meet you, Yuletide.” Por took a sip of her drink, not taking her eyes off her, slipping into full-on flirting mode. “So what brings you here?”

“AO3,” Yuletide nods in a very cute way. “I just started seeing her last month, though, I mean — it was pretty much coming. We’ve been friends for a while.” She smiled, ducked her head, and Por swallowed.

“Well,” she smiles, making sure it’s slow and lascivious, “I’m happy for you.”

“Um. I uh, I heard you’re with Dreamwidth now?” She tilts her head.

“Yup. I wanted things LiveJournal just couldn’t offer me.” She shrugged, dismissing the subject with the movement. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Oh, um. Thanks, uh — rum and coke, if there is some.”

Por smiled. “This is Fandom’s house. There’s always rum and coke.” She opened a cupboard door, moved aside a few bottles with names like Purple Nurple and Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster, and found the rum. Pouring it out, she angled her hips just so. “Been here before?”

She catches the edge of a nod in the corner of her vision. “I’ve been around for years,” she said. “Come here every winter. I’ve uh, I’ve seen you around.” Por turned just in time to catch the blush. “We um. I hear we have things in common.”

Por smiled. “Oh, I think we do,” she said. She clinked their glasses together, lowed her voice to ‘sultry’, and said, “Cheers.”

Yuletide sipped her drink, put the glass down on the counter, and leaned up to kiss her.

Por went with the movement, meeting her in the middle. The kiss was gentle for the first two seconds, then Por leaned closer and Yuletide pressed her whole body flush against Por’s. Por groaned into her mouth, wrapped one arm around her, and traced the outline of her ear with one fingertip.

Yuletide broke off, breathing hard. “Wait, what about — I mean, _here_ is —”

“Fandom’s kitchen. Do you really think anybody is going to mind?”

“No, but — someone might —” She bit her lip, and Por realised what she meant.

“Maybe no one will see us.” She leaned down, licked a stripe up Yuletide’s neck. “Or maybe someone will walk in.” She felt Yuletide swallow.

Por kissed her again, hands on her waist, then brushing down, down. Yuletide made small sounds at the back of her throat as Por ran her hands along her hips, down over her skirt, to her legs underneath it. She played with the hem, working a line of kisses down Yuletide’s neck to her clavicle. She nibbled.

“Okay, that’s it,” Yuletide whispered, and hopped up onto the counter. She pulled Por close, one leg each side of her hips, and tugged at Por’s earlobe with her teeth. “I don’t care if someone sees,” she growled. Por shivered.

She ran her hands over Yuletide’s thighs, up under the hem of her skirt. Yuletide shifted so her thighs were further apart, angling her hips, whimpering slightly, tiny sounds and movements. Por had to remember how to breathe right.  



End file.
